


What can you say

by Ghelik



Series: The 100 Fics [71]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 11:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17897504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghelik/pseuds/Ghelik
Summary: Echo takes Roan's hand and bids her goodbyes





	What can you say

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song "What can you say?" from the Love Story musical.

Echo stands on a hide poppy-covered field. There’s a village to her right: small wooden huts surrounded by small gardens and hen houses. Children laugh and run about. To the east, so far away the look like gentle blue waves the Serpent Mountains, with their winding roads and the harsh Cliff Dwellers, who protect the path to the Winter Palace.

“I have been waiting for you.”

Echo’s heart twists painfully in her chest as she turns.

Roan stands surrounded by red flowers, tall and proud, decked in his favorite fur cloak and leather boots, his beard as carefully groomed as always, small white flowers and metal trinkets woven into his long hair.

Tears prickle in the back of Echo’s eyes and she bows to her king.

“There’s no need for that, Echo.” He spreads his arms. “Come here.”

The spy sobs as she crashes into him, his strong arms enveloping her and crushing her against his broad chest. She tries to reign her feelings in, to force the tears back and take a step back and regain a modicum of decorum and pride. But his hand burrows into her hair, keeping her pinned in place and she is so relieved to see him again.

“I have missed you so much,” Echo sobs.

Roan’s chuckle reverberates through his whole body, and he takes a step back, looking her with a fondness he’s never before expressed so openly. “Come, they’re waiting.”

Echo starts after him without a question, like she’s always done – he’s her king and she follows.

A bird caws loudly overhead, catching her attention. It’s black and big, gliding smoothly in the cloudless sky. The iridescent wings catching the light of two suns. The spy stops. She has the nagging feeling there’s something she ought to remember. Somewhere she needs to be.

“Wait.”

Roan turns, his expression pleasant, calm.

She stammers. “I-I can’t go with you. There’s-“ she rubs absently at the scar on her abdomen over her clothes. “There’s somewhere I need to be.”

“The fight is over, Echo. Now you get to feast.”

“But- My people.”

 _My people_. Not _our_ , because she remembers. Roan banished her, she’s Azgeda no more- the sting of that thought nothing more than a sad memory-, but she does have a clan, a small compact clan that needs her.

Roan looks sad when he says: “You did well, Echo. Now you get to rest.”

“But they need me.”

He sighs, extends his broad hand towards her. “Come. I’ll take you to them.” It’s calloused and warm, the skin slightly dried at the heel, and a small cut on the tip of his pinky.

When it closes around her fingers it’s firm and reassuring. A hand she would’ve once followed to the ends of the earth.

He takes her to a large and airy hall, smooth wooden walls and high ceilings. A gathering hall, full of people speaking quietly, moving slowly. Roan weaves his way unnoticed around the people, greeting nobody, touching no one.

Out of the corner of her eye, Echo notices a days and an altar at the end of the hall – she has been trained to notice these things without really looking

Echo spots a small ten year old huddled in a corner, nose red and eyes puffy with grief as he hugs his bent legs. Her heart twists and she lets go of Roan.

“Echo.” warns her former king when she kneels next to her young Atlas. She brushes his mop of dark brown curls out of his face.

“Don’t cry, my heart.” The boy shudders, pressing his legs harder against his chest.

“Atlas,” a fourteen-year-old Amanda appears suddenly beside her brother. The constellations on her tanned skin winking like stars. She looks so much like her father. Amanda hugs her brother, cleaning his nose with a tissue. “Do you want to go outside for a while?”

A moment later Ivy appears, standing right by Echo’s elbow. The sixteen-year-old fiddles with her fingers, swallows twice. She squats down and pinches the young boy’s cheek, whispering something that makes him chuckle wetly. “Come, I’ll even let you try some of the mead the adults are drinking.” She coaxes the two siblings out of their hiding place and into the crowd.

Echo watches them go, her heart breaking. She wishes she could

“See?” says Roan, his hand anchoring her. “They will be fine.”

Echo looks up at him. “But-“

He presses his lips together for a second. Finally the king shakes his head. “Alright, come.”

John Murphy is outside, staring into a metal trash can full of dry leaves. The trash can is on fire. He isn’t crying, although there are tears hanging from his long eyelashes, little diamonds reflecting the flames. Beside him stands Emori, her head resting on his shoulder. “On the Ring, she would always find stuff to burn when I was feeling down,” whispers Murphy. “We broke into Old Records and burned half the books in there. I am pretty sure one of the things we destroyed was the Declaration of Independence.” He chuckles darkly and Emori hugs him tighter.

“Remember when you had to leave with Bellamy for Grand Ford when I was pregnant with Ivy?”

John shudders and nods. “Yes, it took us so long to come back.”

“A fortnight. I was convinced Dust Dwellers would come corrupt the child during the night, I was so scared she would get my-“ she swallows. “Echo sat every night by the door to our hut, keeping the Dust Dwellers away. Guarding me and Ivy from harm.”

“She deserved a better friend than I would ever be.”

“No.” Echo squeezes their shoulders, shaking her head fiercely. “No. You were the first family ever to accept me without a second glance. I- I should have been better.” The spy turns to Emori. “I should have gotten over myself sooner on the Ring. I should have been fairer to you those first few years. And John. You helped me through so much. The fire was never just for your benefit; I wouldn’t have survived without something reminding me of the ground. And you shared that with me. Our little fire bucket kept me alive up there.”

The pair continues to stare through her into the dancing flames. Echo wants to hug them.

“They will cherish the good memories, and forget your transgressions. Much like you have done with those who are gone. Come. I think it’s starting.”

They get back into the hall.

At one end stands a dais. There is an altar there, covered by a large white sheet, holding flowers and an open casket. The woman inside is shrouded with a carefully embroiled shawl, hands crossed over her chest, holding an old sword, the black scabbard polished for the occasion, and a longbow. She’s laying on a bed of fresh flowers and small trinkets, children’s drawings and pictures of smiling friends and families.

Raven steps onto the dais. Dressed in dark clothes the gauntness and paleness of her skin stands in harsh contrast. The crowd quiets down while she stares at the shrouded profile in the coffin.

“I never had much of a family growing up. What little I had, I lost very soon, and I never expected I would get it back. I never expected to be loved unconditionally by so many people. I never expected anyone to care for me just for me. Not for the things, I could do, not for the things I represent. But for simple old me. Praimfaya gave me three brothers and three sisters. And like sisters, we bickered and fought and laughed and cried. Like brothers, we teased and pranked and ate together. We were a family. A large, dysfunctional family that had done terrible things to one another. That had survived horrible trails and walked through fire more times than anyone should have. Hate, distrust, that melted away and I have loved like I never knew I would.” She turns to look at the casket. “I have been loved like I never dreamed I could be loved. I have learned from my brothers and sisters, and I know, I know I would never be the woman I am today without them all. And if all I lost before was the price I had to pay to be put on their path, I swear to god, I would do it all over again.”

She sniffs and cleans her nose with the back of her hand.

“Today I bid my goodbye to a sister for the second time.” she swallows twice when her voice breaks. “I bid my goodbye to a sister for the second time. And I can only wish- I can only thank you. Thank you Echo, for standing by my side. For teaching me to fight, for giving me the proof I needed that I was as capable as anyone else. For protecting me and protecting my family. For not killing my husband any of the million times you had plenty of reasons to do so” a chuckle ripples through the crowd. “For risking your life for us and for giving us your friendship, your counsel and your love.” She steps closer to the casket. “And even as I bid you goodnight on this shore. I know we will find each other on the next. May we meet again, my sister..”

The crowd echoes the sentiment., drowning Raven’s whispered “ _Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim_.”

Echo brushes tears from her cheeks as she watches Bellamy disentangle himself from Atlas thin arms and start towards the dais.

“I can’t,” she tells Roan. “Please, Haihefa, I can’t just leave him.”

The azgedan king looks at her with his chilly blue eyes. “Go to him.”

She weaves through the assembled people. Octavia stands in a corner, looking morose and uncomfortable. There are Wonkru and Netarans she knows. Former Az-warriors, mixed with friends she made after reaching Netara. Bellamy stares at the casket, his eyes round and lip trembling. His stalling allows her just enough time to climb the dais and stand beside him. When he turns towards the crowd, he looks old: face so pale the Orion constellation under his right eye stand in high relief, eyes puffy and nose peeling from his handkerchief. He licks his lips as Echo slips her hand into his.

“I am here, my love,” she whispers in his ear, nuzzling against his shoulder.

“What can I say about Echo? I could stand here and list all the things I love about her. I could tell you she was brave and strong and smart. That she had a soft spot for Disney movies or that she kept my clan alive better than I ever could. I could tell you that she has given the world two amazing miracles and that her fight was cut too short. There-“ his voice breaks and he has to close his eyes and take a deep breath through his nose to compose himself. When Echo squeezes his hand, he squeezes back without thinking, and when he notices, his whole face crumbles again. “There is no way to describe what Echo means to my family and me. What her loss feels like.” Bellamy swallows. “She came into my life like a hurricane: powerful, and beautiful and impossible to ignore.”

A tear rolls down his cheek, tracing the path to a shallow river. “Don’t cry, my love”, she whispers, kissing it away. “You’re far too cute to be sad.”

His breath stutters and, for a moment she is convinced he has heard her. When he smiles, it is sad and heartbreaking, and Echo wants nothing more than to make it better, but she doesn’t know how.. “And if she were here, she would tell me she never liked to see me cry. She would probably say she’s sorry for making us sad. ‘Don’t mind that; I’ll sleep it off.’” He turns towards the coffin. “Echo was Azgeda before becoming Spacekru. She believed that if she died an honorable death, she would ride through the great Void and into the halls of her ancestors. I don’t know if her death was honorable for her standards. She probably would’ve preferred something a lot bloodier and maybe more heroic.” He looks down at the shrouded profile. “But you told me once that living a full, brave life, hat hanging sword and bow to protect your family and clan during times of peace was honorable enough. And you have done everything. You leave a family that loves you and a legacy that will outlive us all. And if that is not enough to please a thousand gods, then, when my time comes, I will cross the void and journey through the deepest depths of Tartarus to see you again. Because this is a promise, we will meet again.”

He takes a deep shuddering breath, turning to the gathering. “I’d like to borrow the Azgeda parting prayer, so that the words might guide Echo on her final journey home.” Around the room, former Az-warriors shift closer. Bellamy looks down at his hands.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” whispers the spy as Bellamy starts reciting the verses: ”Lay your head down on the dirt, close your eyes against the dark. Rest your weary hand, lay your bloody sword and faithful bow.” She shudders when the rest of the warriors join in. Echo never dreamed she would ever get a proper warrior’s funeral. “On this land, your fight is over.” Roan pulls her away from her partner, guiding her slow, but surely towards the door. “Ride on wide wings towards out of the shadow and the cold to evergreen gardens and lands of plenty where you will feast every day on never ending meat and drink the sweetest wine. Where you will fight and never get harmed. Where you will rest and never wake tired. Where you will always walk under the sun and never be cold, where illness cannot touch you and poison will never break you. You will sit beside your father and your brothers, and you will be honored, and your deed praised by your ancestors. Where you will be happy from waking sun to setting moon, for you have reached the promised land of your ancestors and have brought great joy to your clan and family.”

Crossing the threshold is the hardest thing Echo has ever done.

When she does, she is back on the poppy field, walking towards the village.

There are horses and dogs and cats and hens, Friends she thought she would never see again. “Little Girl!” calls her aunt, hurrying out of her childhood home, her daughters right on her heels. “Little Girl!” She hugs her close kissing her cheeks and squeezing her face between her withered hands. She smells like cookies and fresh chicken blood. Gloria, Echo’s oldest cousin has flowers woven in her hair, not a trace of the illness that took her from their family at age twelve on her skin. She jumps into Echo’s arms and tells her about the flowers she has been planting, and the little colt that was born just the other day.

Roan laughs good-naturedly and slowly extricates her from her aunt’s grasp, with a promise that she will be right back.

They continue down the street, past bakeries and smiths and a coffee shop. Her house is small and cozy, with flowers on every window and a door that opens with no squeak. She looks around the empty room and turns towards Roan. “I don’t want to live without Bellamy.”

He chuckles walking into the room, his frame large than life in the small space. “You could always lay down and sleep until he makes his way to you. Or you could go out and greet your neighbors. I think they’ve been waiting for you.”

With a frown she turns to the door, where a young blonde woman and a lithe dark-haired man stand.

Echo’s breath catches in her throat even as the blonde throws herself at her, and only thanks to years of training does she manage to remain on her feet. “Harper.”

“We have missed you so much,” says Monty taking a seat on her couch after a long hug.

“You have to tell us everything.”

“Of course. Sit. Make yourselves at home. You, too, Roan.” Echo puts the kettle on as Roan takes a seat across from Harper and Monty.

“How is everyone? How was the new planet? Did you guys find aliens?”

Echo smiles, starting with the part she knows her friends are most anxious to her. “Jordan is married now. Has a beautiful baby boy.”

She settles across from them, warm mugs in all their hands and she shares her story, settling for the wait until the rest of her family will join them.

May the spirits make it a long, long wait.

**Author's Note:**

> This thing was unbeta'd and I will probably go back and edit it at some point. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting


End file.
